Murder In The West
by TurboNerdQueen
Summary: ((murder/mystery AU set in the West. Platonic friendship Tokka, mentioned Ty Lee and Katara))


He leaned against the counter and smiled at the barmaid behind it. "Can you give us your account, Miss…?"

"Ty Lee, but you can call me sweetie." She was a pretty thing with a young face and full lips. The type of girl that would knock any man or woman off their feet, Sokka included.

He heard his deputy snort beside him but said nothing. The saloon had been pretty active up until the moment one of the gunslingers dropped dead in the middle of the room and suddenly everyone became a suspect. Sokka felt a hand on his side, giving him a rough shove as his deputy stepped in.

"What were you doing when ol' Two Hands keeled over?" She asked in her usual 'no bullshit' manner.

Sokka still remembered when she came to town; the 'Blind Bandit' who had a bounty on her head. It shocked him to learn such a strong outlaw was just a kid. It took everything he had and more to bring her in, and when he did she sat in her cell and they talked for hours on end. The townsfolk thought Sokka to be out of his mind giving a blind brat a badge, but she never once led him wrong. If anything, crime had lessened greatly since she joined him. With his smarts and her foolproof ability to tell a lie from a truth, they were an unstoppable team.

"Well, I was wiping off the counter and about to top off a few drinks when there was a thump and…" Her eyes looked past them to the covered body on the floor. Sokka moved to block her view and cleared his throat, a small sign for Toph to test the barmaid.

"So you didn't see who could have done it?" He asked, staring intently at the girl. She shook her head and gave a soft pout.

"No… sorry, Sheriff."

He felt a single tap on his shin from his partner. The girl checked out in Toph's eyes. Sokka tipped his head forward and looked back to the others in the saloon. One down, about a dozen to go.

"Looks like Katara won't be setting us a plate tonight for dinner." He said under his breath, walking towards the crowd to start his questions again. There was a hum of agreement behind him as Toph followed closely behind, narrowly avoiding bumping into the dead bastard on the floor.

It just didn't add up. How could the old man be alive and raising hell one minute only to drop dead the next? There was no indication of foul play when Sokka inspected the body; no gunshot, no stab wound, nothing. He was beginning to wonder if it was just the gunslinger's time.

"Alright boys, we're not wanting trouble. We're just wanting to figure out how your pal there kicked the bucket." Sokka said as he approached the others, all their expressions guarded. At least their guns were holstered. He sat down at a table, Toph directly behind him with her hand on his shoulder and waited for the other men to sit with him. Whoever was here before shit hit the fan were in the middle of a poker game; small poker chips were still stacked next to cards, a few whiskey glasses scattered around the table with riding gloves thrown haphazardly on the surface. Sokka reached for the cards, completely aware of the way everyone around him tensed up. He took a peek at the cards in front of him and felt a chill run down his spine; aces and eights.

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say this was your friends hand?" He asked, watching a few of the others nod silently. He smiled brightly and leaned back in the rickety chair. "Damn shame, he had a pretty decent one here… I'm in." Toph sighed behind him.

"Meat-head, we don't have time to play games. Besides your sister will skin us both if you gamble any more." She said crossly, her hand never giving his shoulder three small squeezes. He reached up and tapped it lightly.

"Come on, it's only until the furniture maker gets here." He turned his attention back to the game and threw a chip into the middle of the table. It took a bit but soon the guys were playing along, throwing in chips or folding. Sokka kept a trained eye on the gloved man three chairs down from him, even when the doors swung open and a portly old man walked in, two younger men standing back.

"This the one?" He asked gruffly, eyeing the covered mass on the floor.

"You see any others here?" Toph asked, looking in the old man's general direction. He chuckled and motioned for his two sons to carry him out to the wagon. Sokka stood up.

"Wait a minute, we at least have to send him off with a drink." He reached for the glass nearest to him when the man he had been watching pulled out his gun and aimed it right at Sokka. Everyone became quiet, watching the gunslinger keep a steady hand while the sheriff stared at him, unmoving.

"There's already one grave to dig up. Don't go trying to make it two." Sokka warned just as the other man pulled back on the hammer of his pistol. Poor bastard wasn't going to give up that easily. Sokka tried again with more conviction in his voice.

"You're about to make the biggest mistake in your life. Put your gun away and we can talk about it-"

"No! I won't let you take me in! That sonofabitch had it coming. I warned him what would happen if he kept cheating us out of our money and he didn't fucking listen!" He cried out, the end of his gun slowly starting to shake.

Toph tapped his shoulder once; a quick move that meant all hell was about to let loose. Sokka held his hands up slowly.

"You murdered a man. You're gonna hang for your crime."

The gunslinger looked at everyone watching the scene play out in front of them, hands on their own pistols ready to fire at any minute. He swallowed audibly and shook his head.

"No… not today." He started to pull back on the trigger just as Sokka dove to the side.

A gunshot echoed in the room. No one dared to breathe as the gunslinger slumped in his seat, his pistol clattering to the floor below. Toph held her own gun at her side, the barrel smoking from the fresh discharge.

"Shit! Won't be hearing out of that ear for a while." Sokka grumbled, standing up and dusting himself off just as the other men in the bar moved their hands away from their holsters. The furniture builder wiped the sweat from his brow with a dusty rag, beady eyes flicking between the sheriff to the fresh corpse sitting across from him.

"H-how did you know?" He asked. Sokka looked to him and pointed to the first gunslinger's empty whiskey glass.

"My best guess is poison. There were no visible stab or bullet wounds on the first bastard, but his mouth was yellowing fast. All these other boys took their gloves off while playing their hands, but he didn't." He jerked his chin towards the second body. "After that, I just went on a hunch."

The furniture maker cursed and shook his head. "One of these days I'm going to be making a casket for you because of those damn hunches."

"I've been telling him the same thing, but all this idiot can think about it food and women." Toph commented dryly, elbowing her boss before slowly walking towards the bar as the old man's sons laughed at Sokka's scowl.


End file.
